Vuelie
by denoodled
Summary: After the Great Thaw, life in Arendelle seems to be perfectly fine. Until there comes an anniversary of Elsa's reign and suddenly, everything is out of place. [In progress.]
1. Prologue

**A/N:** _It's a legend I completely made up. The queen's name is taken from the music sequence opening _Frozen_ titles. Nøkken is just what I described, but I use him on my own purposes. Sigurd existed in Scandinavian mythology and that's all I know. _Stjerneskudd_ litrally means 'shooting stars'._

_The future story will have a lot to do with this legend, so pay attention. :)_

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**THE LEGEND**

The shooting stars always appeared with the very first breath of spring. They were called "the tears of Vuelie".

According to a legend, Vuelie was the queen of Arendelle at the beginning of its existence. She fell in love with a beautiful but poor young man named Sigurd. Even though he loved her back, they couldn't be together.

Vuelie was ready to give up the crown for him but she couldn't do so; Nøkken appeared. He was a monster living in the lakes, who incarnated the greatest, the most thrilling evil. That time, Arendelle was haunted by many floods, so Nøkken's power grew stronger. People were no longer safe. He allured them into the water. He turned into a person his victims cared about the most, to sink them and take to his underwater kingdom.

Vuelie, who had the power over the ice, was the only one able to stop him. She had to make a hard choice then; she had to choose whether to sacrifice her own happines to help her people, stay there and protect them – or to be with her rue love, let the people die... and be forced to look at it.

First of all, Vuelie was the queen. She never forgot that. And she was never happy again. Heartbroken Sigurd went into the mountains – and he disappeared. Later it was told he slayed a dangerous dragon and became a hero. In spite of his fame, Vuelie couldn't find him.

Citizens of Arendelle celebrated the liberation from Nøkken every year. For her it was a day of mourning, though. Then she went to the Northern Mountain, the place of their meetings, and cried for a long time. Her tears turned into the snowflakes – and winter came over whole Arendelle.

When queen Vuelie died without leaving a heir, a new dynasty took over reigns in Arendelle; the kings of the Southern Islands. None of them was able to control the ice, so the winter in Arendelle was over once for all. The snow was to be found only in the most remote, cold and dangerous parts of the mountains. After some time, ice harvesters became so important for the land because of that.

Queen Vuelie asked to take place in the sky, as a constellation – so she could look for Sigurd. From time to time, her tears dropped on the ground as the stars. They were the eternal reminder on her glory and sacrifice she had to make to save her kingdom.

They said, the lovers' kiss during the Stjerneskudd night, just before the dawn, would affix a seal on their love forever. It was a gift from queen Vuelie for all of those who were in love – so nothing would ever tear them apart, and so no one ever had to suffer like she did. They also said, if something intrude on their kiss, it would mean a great diseaster.

But legends are nothing more but just legends – aren't they?


	2. The Snow Queen

_**A/N:**_ _The chapters are parted. Each part contains one character's POV (Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Hans)._

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**CHAPTER 1. STJERNESKUDD **

**THE SNOW QUEEN** _(1/3)_

_31 of March,_

_Stjerneskudd Night_

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Elsa felt salty taste of blood in her mouth. It was warm and dense.

Panic rushed with every heartbeat. Her thoughts ran frantically, every one in another direction, and she wasn't able to catch any of them, although she needed something she could hold onto now so much.

Fear squeezing her throat didn't even let her gulp – but when she finally did it, it sounded way too loud. Surely everyone had heard it. She moved her gaze over the hundreds of faces in the throne hall. They knew. For sure. Everyone noticed and they knew she couldn't control herself.

She wanted to wipe the blood from her bitten lip. She winced when the tips of her fingers grazed the inside of her hand – as if she felt the sting of thousands needles. She hissed and straightened them immediately, placing them on her knees, trembling under the thick fabric of the dress.

Deep breath. And one more. Nothing happened... Yet. It was alright, as for now. It didn't have to happen again. It didn't have to be the way it was the last time.

She felt a tingling sensation on her nape, the sign someone was following her. She raised her gaze a little and she met nasty eyes of the duke of Weselton. They were casting ominous glints. She wasn't even sure what was their color... Dim light of the crystal chandelier made them look completely black.

Everyone gathered in the room knelt in front of her, leaning down their heads with respect. They were singing the anthem, asking for favor and long reign for the queen. The whole palace was flooded by foreign dignitaries and crowned heads. She noticed the austere face of prince Klaus, the Southern Islands' heir, who'd come to negociate the terms of his youngest brother's release. He was accused of high treason. Although Klaus had dark thick beard, she was sure he pursed lips. Elsa definitely didn't want to agonize about prince Hans now. Quickly, she looked at two young men kneeling on his left.

Their faces beaming with peace made a huge contrast to Klaus' dignity. The taller one, the more peaceful and dignified one, made an awkward movement, as if he wanted to wave, but at the last moment he changed his mind and lowered down his hand.

Fair-haired lad next to him shook his head, so blonde hair covered his eyes. He was smiling.

It seemed Elsa knew them very well, she just couldn't remember. As if she'd met them already, long ago. Probably in some another life, when everything was much easier. They were very similar to each other. They had the same eye color – both had blue; one light, the other almost navy blue... but they were blue. It was a cold color, the color of ice...

"No," she moaned to her numb fingers clenching at the throne's arms. They were getting colder, as if they were waiting for such sign. "Please, everything but not that! Not now, not now!" she whispered frantically, as if her fervent voice could be any help.

Weselton, even though he kneeled, didn't sing. His face was contorted by a crooked smile. He was looking at her, as if he was waiting for a smallest lapse, as if he wanted her to do something that...

But of course he was waiting for it! That was why he insisted to celebrate Elsa's coronation anniversary, even though Arendelle didn't celebrate such jubilees. Elsa didn't want to agree, especially because that year, coronation anniversary was held on the Quell Day. No one knew the exact date, so it was always held on the last week of March, and the first week of spring, when the last aurora appeared.

Even if she wasn't so depandable on the Royal Council whose members insisted as well, Elsa knew she had to agree anyway. Weselton, though it was just a small country sticked somewhere in between high mountain range and Northern See, was the center of foreign policy. The Southern Islands, and even remote Nasturia had to reckon with it. It was also Arendelle's most important trade partner.

Weselton claimed the people had to make sure – if not that she wasn't a witch – at least that she could control her powers and they were safe from her.

Old liar.

Elsa looked down at her hands. They were all visible, from her wrists up to her elbows. The sleeves were tight and sewed from transparent fabric. So everyone could see. So she couldn't hide anything.

At the wall in front of her, a moose's antlers hung. Her father had hunted it once. This time, Elsa felt exactly the same way. Put on dispaly. There wasn't only a gilded cage.

Suddenly, she heard a quiet giggle. A little girl with huge fair eyes clang onto Weselton's uniform. The duke was very petite himself, but next to him, she seemed even smaller. She could be eight, at the most nine years old. It was shocking. She'd never supposed Weselton could've had a daughter...

The girl slightly noded at the throne. Elsa looked at her hands. They were clenching on the arms shaped in lions' heads. Under her fingers, she felt the elaborate adornments in their manes... And she felt they were warm and a bit sticky from her sweaty hands.

Warm and golden.

Warm.

Not cold.

She hadn't frozen them.

She hadn't frozen the throne!

She slightly leaned forward to look at the backrest and the floor around her. The anthem's notes were fading away and everyone stood up. Alive. Carefully, she straightened her legs. Until now, they were hidden under the ample dress. Not only her hands were able to freeze.

Later, she perked her head and gave Weselton a challenging look. She wanted him to know she'd looked through his tricks. She saw his face changing; from happily awaiting to a grimace. The little girl next to him winked.

Elsa stood up slowly and gave everyone a smile. It was a royal smile, as Kristoff called it (and which he mimiced when he thought she couldn't see), delicate, cordial, but regal and distanced at the same time.

She was the queen.

She gestured towards the door, inviting the guests to go to the ballroom. The time to party had come.

"Did you see his face?!" Elsa squeaked when the crowd slowly started to leave the room and she finally could turn around to her sister. All this time, Anna was standing behind her and even though she couldn't touch or see her, she knew she could depend on her.

...Or rather, she could. When she turned around, Anna wasn't there. Anywhere. When she started wondering how long ago she'd escaped, she noticed two braids disappearing behind the door leading to the terrace.

Elsa sighed.

Some things never changed.


End file.
